The 11th Hunger Games-The Heart of Darkness
by thebrutishempire
Summary: Another year, another Hunger Games. This year, head gamemaker Quintus Julius has created a fantastic new area, that is sure to provide top quality entertainment for the people of Panem. Add a special request from the President and you've got all the makings of the best games ever! This is an OPEN SYOT. 11/24 slots remaining. Please submit some tributes!
1. Prologue

The 11th Hunger Games-The Heart of Darkness

**A/N: I've changed the year the games are taking place as someone else has already written one about the 19****th****. **

"_As a punishment for the horrors inflicted by the rebels on the innocent men and women of Panem, every year the Districts must offer 24 tributes to fight to the death in 'The Hunger Games'. 23 tributes will perish, with the sole survivor being rewarded with a life of luxury. It is through this that we safeguard our future and ensure the ever-lasting prosperity of our great nation."-_Extract from the treaty of treason.

**Head gamemaker Quintus Julius**

"The President will see you now", the secretary gestures towards the great oak door of the president's office, barely even registering me, her eyes remaining on the screen in front of her.

"Thank you", I say, giving her my most winning smile. "I assume my funeral has already been arranged". She ignores me and continues typing. I think what I love most about these people is their sense of fun.

I take a moment to compose myself before entering the room, adjusting the lapels of my sequined purple suit and straightening my tie. The suit cost a fortune, but it looks fantastic on me, and I have to look good for my big moment, don't I? I brush away the strands of red hair that have fallen in front of my eyes, take a deep breath, and push open the door. The office is lavishly decorated, with a thick red carpet, and great silk banners on the walls. The president sits at a large, ornately patterned table in the middle of the room.

"Ahh, finally", she says, placing the file on the desk and looking up at me. Her green eyes look me up and down. I can't help feeling like she's sizing me up, assessing whether I'm going to make a good meal. Many in the Capitol call her beautiful, but I find more frightening than anything. Her jet black hair falls down to her shoulders, highlighting her pale face, which remains free of any make up, save on her lips, which are an icy blue. It makes me shudder.

I bow slightly and move over to the chair sitting opposite her, but she seems to have other ideas. "Don't sit down. I wait to keep this brief. I deplore talking to you people." She intones icily.

I push the chair aside and stand awkwardly in front of her desk. She bends down to retrieve a file from a drawer and I give a mock salute and try to recall why I voted for this woman.

"The arena. When will it be finished?" she says, opening the folder and producing the blueprints "These plans are impressive but I need more than a drawing. I need the real thing"

"I'm pleased to say we're actually working ahead of schedule", I reply. I can't stop myself from grinning. "We're set to be finished in about a week."

"Good. I'm pleased to see you have a better attitude towards this than your predecessor. See to it that you keep it up. I expect to be notified immediately when the arena is complete."

I bow again and begin to walk towards the door. "Wait! The president barks. I stop and turn around. "Yes ma'am"?

"I have a…request, for the arena. I need you to make an addition. It's my own idea, I think it will really spice things up, and most importantly, expose the districts to a bit of terror, remind them just how powerful we are. Think you can do it?"

She doesn't wait for an answer, getting up from her chair and striding over to me and shoving a sheet of paper into my hands.

"All the details are here. If you can pull this off, you'll never want for anything again. You are dismissed."

I hurry out of the room, wish goodbye to the secretary (she ignores me) and leave the building. I only stop to look at the paper when I'm in my car. I have to read it several times to let it sink in. It's perhaps the most despicable idea I've ever heard. It's vile, it's depraved, it's…brilliant. Why didn't I think of something like this? I order my driver to take me to my office and radio ahead to the chief technician and plan an emergency meeting. I'm going to have to work all night on this one, but I don't care. I have a feeling these games are going to be just perfect.

**A/N: This an SYOT, so I'm going to need some victims *ahem* I mean tributes! I would prefer to have them submitted by PM. This is the first story I've written on here, so reviews are much appreciated. **

**Best of luck and may the odds be ever in your favour!**


	2. Tribute Form

**Basic information**

**Name:**

**Gender:**

**Age:**

**District:**

**Height and weight:**

**Appearance:**

**Personality: (please be detailed)**

**History: **

**Family and Friends**

**Parents: **

**Siblings: **

**Friends:**

**Boyfriend/Girlfriend: **

**Life in their district (are they rich/poor? What is their house like?)**

**Reaping**

**Reaping outfit:**

**Reaped or volunteered?**

**Reaction to being reaped OR reason for volunteering**

**The Captiol and training**

**Parade outfit idea: (Please note outfit may end up different)**

**Opinion on the Capitol:**

**Training strategy:**

**Strengths: (At least two)**

**Weaknesses and phobias: (be creative!)**

**Favourite weapon:**

**Private session strategy:**

**Interview strategy and angle:**

**Interview outfit: **

**Interview quote:**

**The Games**

**Strategy in the games:**

**Participate in the bloodbath?**

**Willingness to kill:**

**Open to alliances?**

**Preferred death: **

**Anything else I've missed?**


	3. The Tributes

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has submitted so far, i really appreciate people showing interest. I still need tributes so please keep submitting and i will try my hardest to ensure my writing gets better.**

District 1

Female: Demetra "Demi" Anastasia Cole, 17

Male: Magnificus Devarde, 17

District 2

Female: Eveline Lepou, 18

Male: Aleron 'Al' carter, 17

District 3

Female: Persephone 'Percy' Blackwood, 17

Male: Aven Runestone, 16

District 4

Female: Kole Chambers, 17

Male:

District 5

Female: Eloise Reese, 16

Male: Caelum (last name unknown), 14

District 6

Female: Isabelle McInode, 17

Male: Rictor Nevers, 17

District 7

Female: Calla Mallow, 17

Male: Jareyd Saraffian, 15

District 8

Female: Dianna Ravyn Holden, 18

Male: Chris Walker, 16

District 9

Female: Haiku Dean, 17

Male:

District 10

Female: Mink Leewood, 15

Male: Moses Ramsey, 16

District 11

Female:

Male:

District 12

Female: Katherine 'Kat' Jansen Thorne, 15

Male:


	4. The 10th Victor

**A/N: This is just a bit of filler to keep the story going while I wait for more tributes. I'd love to hear what you think about this chpter so please review.**

**Elisa 'Scythe' Weston-District 9 victor of the 10****th**** Hunger games**

I find him on the beach, staring out across the sea, his weapon hanging loosely by his side. Blood pours from the wound in his leg, staining the sand around him a deep crimson and running in tiny rivers into the waiting sea. We're the last ones left now, and I don't know what to do. I don't want it to end like this? We've fought side by side, shared food, saved each other's lives. And now one of us had kill the other. The end of the games is so close, just one more kill, and the nightmare will be over, but I can't do it. I walk towards him, enjoying the feeling of the cool sand on my sun damaged feet.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he says, gesturing towards the night sky, which is alive with colours. A wonderful aurora of light cuts through the sky, flashes of purple, indigo, green, red and pink seem to flow across the sky, rising and falling, a never-ending explosion of colour, casting a deep purple glow on the sea and setting the horizon ablaze with a flickering red and orange lights. He takes my hand and I rest my head on his shoulder we stand like this seems like hours, just staring at the sky. I almost forget I'm in arena, and lose myself in a world where there is no Panem, no Hunger games and no deaths. It's just me and him, together and safe.

"I'm glad we saw this" he says finally, snapping me out of my trance. He gently lets go of my hand and sits clumsily down in the sand. "But we both know it can't stay like this. These games have to end."

"I'm not going to do it" I say. I think I'm going to start to cry. "I don't want to. There must be something we can do." I sit down beside him and bury my face in my hands. I don't want the cameras to see this.

"You know there isn't anything we can do. You have to do it. It's the only way." He pushes his sword into my lap. "Please." He says this so calm and I can't bear it, so I grab the sword and toss it away where it lands with a thump in the sand.

"I AM NOT GOING TO KILL YOU." I shout, and beginning to cry. How can he be asking this? He can't expect me to do it and go back to our district knowing he won't be there. Knowing that I killed him and having the whole district hate me for it.

"You have to." His voice is still eerily calm. "I haven't got much time left anyway". He points at his leg. "All you have to do is finish the job. They'll understand. Now go and get the sword. I'll get up turn away. Do what you have to do."

"No. I won't. Kill me. I don't care about my family. They don't need me". I try to choke back my tears and sound authoritative, but I can't stop sniffing and my eyes are red.

He sighs. "I know you care about them. My family are gone, if I survive and you don't I'll have no one to go back to. You still have them."

I can't think of anything to say, so I just stand quietly, hiding my face and waiting for him to speak again. He doesn't. I slowly remove my hands from my face and look at him. His dark hair is matted with blood and filth. A jagged line runs down from below his right eye to the bottom of his chin, a sign of how hard he's fought. His leg is still bleeding freely and his eyes are shut tightly in pain. I finally realise what I have to do. I kneel down beside him and kiss him and say: "if you haven't got much time left then let's spend it together."

He opens his eyes in surprise and kisses me back and then suddenly pulls away. "Please. If you don't do it, then the gamemakers will kill us both. They won't just let me bleed out."

"Let them." I reply. "If we both die, then we both win. No more killing."

He smiles and rests his head in my lap. We sit in silence, with me stroking his hair while we look at the beautiful sky. I don't even notice him die.


	5. Things to Come

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has submitted so far! Reviews are very much appreciated. **

**Head gamemaker Quintus Julius**

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like you to give a very warm welcome to tonight's special guest, head gamemaker Quintus Julius!" The booming voice of Alexus fade reverberates through the tightly packed television studio. This is my moment.

I stride gracefully onto the stage and the audience goes wild, shouting my name, practically climbing on top of one another to get a glimpse of me. I stop halfway across the stage and bow to the crowd, giving them a big smile and blowing a few kisses in the direction of a group of women in bright pink wigs. That really sends them over the edge. I swear I saw one of them faint! This is too easy. I bow again, and take my seat next to Alexus. He shakes my hand theatrically, holding it so the cameras can get a good shot. He gestures towards the audience and they fall silent.

"It's so wonderful to have you here tonight Quintus, I do hope I haven't pulled you away from something important."

"It's a pleasure to be here, and of course you haven't, nothing is more important than you wonderful people." I wave at the audience, who cheer appreciatively. Secretly, I'd rather be working on the arena, as there are still a few loose ends to tie up, and I don't quite trust my crew not to blow something up while I'm gone, but I keep that to myself.

"So, let's get right down to business, I don't want to keep you for any longer than I have to, because after all, you've got the games to run and we don't want to keep you from that do we?" Alexus smiles and continues "So, we're all dying to know what exactly we can expect with this year's arena. Care to share anything with us?"

I put on my official game maker voice and frown at Alexus. "Well Alexus, it would be terribly improper of me to reveal anything, especially seeing as the games are only three weeks away..." The audience let out a collective moan of disappointment. Idiots. They know full well I'm going to show them, but I have to make a show of it, as it makes it much more memorable.

"Aww, well that's a shame" Alexus says in mock disappointment. "Are you sure you can't share even a tiny bit of information, I promise none of us will tell the president". That gets a good laugh.

I pretend to consider his proposal, contorting my face like I'm deep in thought and then breaking into a wide grin. "Well now, if you're sure you can keep it a secret, I see no reason I can't give you lovely people a taste of what's to come. Who wants to see the area?" I stand up and address the crowd who scream their approval.

"Alexus, if you'd be so kind". I hand Alexus the small disc that contains the arena trailer. He slots it into a device under the large screen that sits behind us, that normally features a blown up version of what's happening onstage. The screen flickers for a moment and then begins to cycle through images.

It shows a large cliff overlooking a barren plain, a ruined apartment building, , a crashed hovercraft, a river with black water flowing through a deep gorge, a forest of dead trees, a dark tunnel leading into a hill and finally flashes to a video of the cornucopia, which is surrounded by derelict buildings.

The camera pans close to the cornucopia, revealing a huddled figure crouching in the entrance, eating something on the ground. Sensing movement, it looks up and lets out an ear-piercing scream before running forward, and crashing into the camera. The screen fills with static and shuts off.

I have to hand it to my crew, they did a good job. There's no way anyone won't be excited now. The audience are whispering to one another, trying to make sense of what they just saw. Alexus quiets them with a wave of his hand.

"That certainly was interesting. I don't think we've ever seen an arena quite like that before."

"You're quite right there", I reply "As you can see, there's never been an area quite like it. We've had quite enough beaches and meadows to last us a lifetime, so we decided to go with something quite a bit…darker." I smile devilishly and wink. The audience laughs and cheers again. These people are really lapping it up!

Alexus laughs too, thumping me on the back. "I love it! I just can't wait to get to know and interview the lucky, or should I say unlucky, tributes before we send them in." he pauses "Now, we're nearly out of time, but before you go…can you tell us what that thing was we saw? Is it a new type of mutation?

"Now that, my dear Alexus, is classified. All I have to say on the matter is that it's something the tributes really won't be expecting."

The theme music plays, signalling the end of the show. I shake Alexus' hand again and exit the stage. That really couldn't have gone any better. I've show them just enough to make sure that the games will be the only thing anyone's talking about. Of course, I've kept the real surprise for the games themselves. I think the tributes are going to love it.


	6. The 9th Victor

**A/N: Here's another victor chapter, just so you get to know the mentors who will be tutoring your tributes. **

**Aphra Juliana-District 2 victor of the 9th Hunger Games**

They told me that every kill is a little bit easier; that after taking the first few lives you stop caring altogether, that killing becomes a mindless chore, or, if you are lucky- something you can even enjoy. They were wrong. Killing is never easy. Anyone who tells you that is trying to save you from the unfortunate truth that the faces of the dead will stick with you until your dying day. Even now in the arena, where killing in necessary for survival I can't stop thinking about them. The kids I murdered.

There was the green-eyed boy from District 6 who I killed in the bloodbath, the girl with the blonde curls from District 9 who tried so hard to get away, and Pearl, my ally from district 1. She was going to betray me, stab me in the back, I had to do it, it was either that or die. At least that's what I keep telling myself.

There's only two of us left now. After two weeks of enduring gamemaker traps, hideous muttations and the scorching desert sun, I've finally made it. All that's left to do is kill Verinius. He's hiding somewhere in the mountains, I'm sure of it. That boy can climb like a goat, I've seen him scramble up sheer rock faces like it was nothing. I don't really want to have to fight him there, but it doesn't look like I have much of a choice. I've got no food left, and my water canteen is nearly empty. This has to end today.

Before I leave I take inventory of what I have left. A small knife (which will be useless against Verinius' sword), my water bottle, and my crossbow (two bolts remaining). I suppose in a way having so little in the way of gear is a bonus, because it means I can travel light and move quickly, which is exactly what I need to do right now.

I take a sip from my canteen, shoulder my crossbow, and set off towards the eastern portion of the area, which is made up of several large mountains. The walk is long and dull, but I prefer it that way. It gives me time to prepare myself.

"You have to do it". I whisper to myself. "You have to. It's him or you". Telling myself this helps somewhat, because no matter how much I hate killing, I am prepared to do it if it means I live to see my family again.

I walk for what feels like hours, but the sun is still high in the sky by the time I reach the area where the ground begins to gently slope up. In the distance, shrouded in mist, is the largest of the mountains. It looks like a great sleeping beast; dark and silent, but radiating deadly power, like at any moment it could awaken and crush the entire arena.

Well, this is it, he's waiting for me somewhere up there. It's time to finish it. I drink the rest of my water, throwing my canteen to the ground. I won't be needing it anymore. I make my way up the slope, which gets steeper and steeper the further I go. The sandy ground gives way to a carpet jagged rocks that I have to take care not to step on, as spearing my foot now would practically be a death sentence.

Scrambling up the slope is hard work, at one point I have to actually get on my hands and knees to prevent myself from slipping and tumbling back down the hill to my death. There is very little to hold on to, and the fog doesn't help either. It fills my mouth and nose, damp and cloying. My clothes stick to my body and I can barely see three feet in front of me. It feels like I'm being smothered by a huge, white blanket. It takes all my resolve not to scream in frustration. Eventually I manage to get far enough above the mist to see properly again. I scramble up onto a large rock and sit there, panting heavily.

I have to admit, the view is impressive. Far below me, the desert stretches out as far as the eye can see, a never ending ocean of gold. Dotted throughout the massive expanse of sand are several areas where the ground is coloured deep blue. These are the small lakes, which are the only source of water in this burning hellhole of an arena. Far off in the distance I think I can just make out the gleam of the sun reflecting off the cornucopia. I'm come so far in the time I've been here, and I can't stop now.

I am just about to jump down off the boulder when something massive slams into my chest and bowls me over, knocking all the wind out of me. Verinius. He must have been watching me the whole time! I sit up, gasping for air, reaching for my crossbow, but isn't there. It's sitting at the bottom of the rock. I have to reach it! I attempt to stand up but an arm clamps around my throat from behind, pulling me back down.

"Didn't think I'd come out fighting, did you?" Verinius says through gritted teeth "You careers are all the same. You think you're the only ones who know how to kill. You're not so tough without your friends to help you, are you?" I bite down hard on his arm and he lets me go. I twist round and adopt a fighting stance.

"You were saying?" I smile sweetly at him and begin to edge backwards towards my crossbow.

"I can still kill you. You're weak. You've only got this far because you had people to die for you. Well, there's no one left now. I'm going to enjoy this." He raises his sword and walks slowly towards me, running his tongue across his teeth. I back up until I collide with the rock. The crossbow is at my feet, but if I kneel down now, he'll cut my head off. I have to think fast.

"Nowhere to run now." He lunges at me, screaming, his sword raised above his head. I drop to the ground, avoiding his strike by mere inches. Spitting obscenities at me, he raises the sword up again and is just about to bring it down on me when I loose the crossbow bolt into his heart. A look of surprise registers on his face as he drops to the ground.

"Well done." He mutters.

The boom of the cannon is followed almost immediately with the blare of the trumpets, and triumphant voice of the announcer, Elazar Cole "Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the ninth annual Hunger games, Aphra Juliana of District 2!"

How about that? I win.


	7. District One Reapings

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, here are your first two characters. The reaping will be fairly long, but i think that's neccesarty so you get to know the characters. Please tell me what you think of this chapter!**

**Demetra Anastasia Cole-District 1**

"Demi, wake up!"

My sister's voice shocks me awake. I groan and roll over, pulling the covers over my head. Why does she have to do this every reaping day? Because she thinks it's hilarious of course.

"Misty, it's too early" I groan, closing my eyes and making pretend snoring noises in the hope that she'll get the message and leave the room. Unfortunately, she does exactly the opposite and leans over me, her mouth hovering about a centimetre over my ear.

"Didn't you hear me? I said WAKE UP!" She yells into my ear, and jumping back, just far enough so I can't get her. I sit up and scowl at her, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. She smiles sweetly and gives a cheery wave.

"Mom made breakfast." She says. "If you're not at the table in ten minutes, I'm eating yours." She laughs and leaves the room.

Ugh, I love my Artemis to death, but she can be so annoying sometimes. Would it kill her to let me sleep a little longer? It is reaping day after all, I don't want to have to spend any longer than I have to waiting around.

Still, there's no point going back to bed; I'm too awake now, and besides, I want my breakfast. I stretch and walk over to the window, throwing open the shutter. Sunlight streams in, the thick beam of light highlights the little flecks of dust that float and dance in front of the window. The street below our apartment is deserted. Everyone is either still asleep, or spending the last few hours before the reaping with their families.

My reaping outfit, which I laid out the night before, sits in a neat pile on the chair at the foot of my bed. I take off my pyjamas and dress in the clothes from the pile. My outfit consists of my favourite pair of washed out black jeans, (which my sister gave to me as a sixteenth Birthday present), a green blouse that I like because it shows off my curves, and a blue denim jacket.

Perfect. The prospect of facing the reaping is a little less daunting now I know I'll look good for the cameras.

I head to the dining area, where I find my sister sitting at the table, wolfing down my breakfast.

"I thought you weren't coming." she says with a mouthful of food. I yank the bowl away from her and sit down next to her.

She's almost a mirror image of me, with wavy black hair that falls to her waist, dark brown eyes and olive skin, which I suppose is unusual for our district; but then again, so is having an identical twin sister. It's not like we could draw any more attention towards ourselves. I'm glad to see that she's dressed differently to me, so we can at least avoid confusion.

"Do you think you're ready for the reaping?" I ask her

"Yeah, I guess so" She replies. "I just want to get it over with"

"I know how you feel." I say.

I can't wait until we're both old enough to not have to worry about being reaped. Neither of us has had to take any tesserae, but here's still a chance, and that worries me. Misty is my best friend, if she was reaped I don't know what I'd do. And if I was reaped who'd keep her out of trouble? I try to push these thoughts from my mind as I finish my breakfast.

Half an hour later, we say goodbye to mom, who has been given special permission to continue working at her small clinic through the reaping, and head towards the town square, where we file into the seventeen year old's section.

After the mayor has finished reading the treaty of treason, our district escort, a man with bright yellow hair and eyelashes takes the stage. He smiles broadly at the crowd, his polished white teeth eerily contrasting with his purple lips.

"Hello District One! Happy Hunger Games to you all! I hope you're all just as excited as I am. Shall we begin with the girls?" he says in an annoyingly upbeat voice. He reaches into the bowl and pulls out a strip of paper. He unfolds it and reads the name.

"_Artemis Cole." _

Oh no. No, it can't be her.

Next to me, Misty has gone white, her eyes wide in fear. I can't let her go, I just can't. I know what I have to do.

"Stay there and be quiet." I whisper to her.

I swallow, and walk calmly up to the stage. This has to work.

"You must be Artemis! My, you are looking simply lovely today." The escort says enthusiastically. I smile back and stand next to him. He asks for volunteers, but the crowd is silent.

Well, there's no turning back now. I just hope it can keep this up.

**Magnificus Devarde-District 1**

"Stay calm and think. If you lose your temper you make mistakes."

My father advances towards me, his sword pointed towards me. I lunge at him, hitting his sword aside and stabbing at his stomach. He reacts just in time, jumping backwards and grabbing my outstretched sword arm, pulling the weapon from my grip.

I reach down to pick it up, but my father trips me, slamming me to the floor with a loud thud and knocking the wind out of me; he stands back and raises his arms triumphantly, but I'm not ready to give up yet.

I retrieve the sword from the ground, spring up and tackle him, knocking him flat. He points his sword up at me and tries to stand, but it's pointless. He knows I've beaten him.

"You were saying?" I grin at him. I throw my weapon down and give him a hand up.

"Okay, you got me." he says, breathing heavily. "I wasn't expecting that." He thumps me on the back. "Just don't go telling anyone you managed to beat me, I have a reputation to uphold."

"I'm not promising anything." I reply.

Training it with my father is tough work. He doesn't go easy on me and fights better than most of the professionals at the academy. That's part of the reason why I don't go there. What's the point of enduring idiot teachers, arrogant kids and inferior weapons if I can get better training at home?

My father also doesn't want me becoming someone who only lives for combat, he wants me to be more than a Games-obsessed psychopath. He knows I'm better than that. I know I'm better than that. I train because I have to be prepared. However unlikely it may be, if I'm sent to the Hunger Games, I'll know stand a fighting chance.

I put away my training gear and go to my room, where I dress in my reaping clothes. It's a simple outfit, my best black trousers and blue fitted shirt, but it looks damn good on me. The shirt matches my eyes, which the girls will absolutely love. Looking good has never really been a problem for me but I want to look my absolute best if I'm reaped, as sponsors tend to be more generous to good-looking tributes.

I don't have much time until the reaping, so I decide to go and meet my friends for the walk up to the square. My mother stops me before I leave the house.

"Before you go, remember this. Remind them who you are." She says, handing me a beautiful gold ring that is adorned with our family crest. She makes me wear it every reaping day, as if she's worried people might forget how important our family is. I don't mind wearing though, because it makes me look powerful.

"Thanks, I'll see you at the reaping." I tell her. She smiles and goes back into the house.

I meet my friends Sorenson and Silver walking together on the way to the square. They are talking animatedly about the reaping and who they think will be chosen

"Morning" I say, falling in beside them. "Lovely day for a reaping, don't you think?"

Silver rolls her eyes. "Oh yeah, there's nothing I'd rather be doing than standing for hours and listening to them call out names of children I don't care about. What a treat."

"Don't mind her, she's never been up this early before." Sorenson laughs.

"Shut up!" Silver snaps at him. "I would rather be doing literally anything else right now. I'm too old to be reaped so me coming along is completely pointless. Making us all go is so cruel."

"It's good to see you got a sense of perspective." Sorenson replies in a frustrated tone.

"Anyway, what were you've talking about before? Who do you think will volunteer?" I ask them.

"Mace is bound to, he's been talking about it ever since the last games. He thinks he's really in with a chance." Sorenson points at his head and spins his finger around.

Mace is an idiot. If he thinks he's good enough for the games, he might talk big, but underneath he's a coward, I can tell just by looking at him.

"He won't." I say. "He wouldn't make it out of the bloodbath."

When we arrive at the square, it's already packed with people. Sorenson heads off to the eighteen's section and Silver leaves to stand with a group of television people, leaving me on my own.

The seventeen year old's section is full of people I've met at various parties, who greet me enthusiastically.

I zone out while the mayor reads the treaty, thinking about whether or not I should go out tonight. I decide against it, because I'm still a little sore from training, and I know from experience overexerting yourself can lead to nasty injuries.

I am pulled from my thoughts by the high pitched sequel of our District escort, who's just called on the name of a girl called Artemis, a pretty girl who I remember because she has an identical twin sister.

When it's clear no one is going to volunteer for her, the escort pulls a slip out of the boy's bowl.

"Magnificus Devarde."

Well that IS unexpected. For a moment I am frozen in shock, but I quickly compose myself and stride up to the stage. This is it, I've practiced for this. This is my moment. I give the crowd a triumphant wave.

"Now before we go any further, have we any volunteers?" The escort asks cheerily.

No, I think, I can't let anyone else steal my thunder now. I've been chosen, and it's my fight now.

"If any of you are considering volunteering, I suggest you change you reconsider! These games are mine to win, I'm the only one here who's strong enough for this, so back off if you don't want to end up dying in the arena." I angrily address the crowd in front of me.

No one comes forward. I smile, because I know how to play these idiots.

I shake hands with Artemis, who doesn't look me in the eye. The escort pats us both on the back and dresses the crowd: "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present you with your tributes, Artemis Cole and Magnificus Devarde!"

This is exactly what my father has been preparing me for. And I'm going to do him proud.


	8. District Two Reapings

**A/N: So sorry for the delay, I promise that from now on you'll get at least one chapter a week. Just out of interest, what do you folks think of my writing style? Am I writing your characters ok? As always, thanks for reading.**

**Eveline Lepou-District 2**

I grasp my spear in my right hand, and raise it over my head, ready to throw. I try to imagine the practice dummy in front of me is a person.

I quickly evaluate its vulnerabilities, it is unarmoured, so the obvious targets are its unprotected chest and its exposed head. I decide to aim for its heart, an area marked out by a small bulls-eye. I hurl the spear and it lands right in the central ring of the bulls-eye. The force of the blow knocks the dummy to the ground and sends its head flying across the room. Perfect, as usual.

The head trainer, who has been watching my progress, walks over and examines the fallen dummy.

"Good shot." He says. "Dead before he hit the ground." He attempts to yank the spear out of the dummy's chest, but fails.

"You're excelling at everything we have to offer. Frankly, I don't think there's any point in you continuing to train. You're ready for the games."

Ready? Of course I'm ready! I've been prepared for the games ever since I learned how to hold a weapon. They all know I'm the best candidate for the games, I'm the most skilled fighter here. They've all seen what I'm capable of. They only kept on training me so I could provide an example for all the little wannabe victors.

Killing is in my blood, it's what I was born to do. I can't wait to get to the games so I can take as many lives as possible without consequences.

"I'm volunteering today." I tell him. "You'd better make sure I'm the only one doing it. If someone else thinks it's a good idea to put themselves forward, I might have to persuade them to change their minds." I crack my knuckles menacingly for effect.

He looks worried, and rightly so. The last time I got into a fight with another trainee, I nearly killed him. I'd gladly do it again if it meant I got to volunteer.

"I'll have a word with the hopefuls. See if I can't get them to hold back for a year. After all, you're the one who has the best chance." He hurries away to help a boy at the archery section.

I spend a bit more time with spear throwing. I don't really need the practice, but I enjoy it; the feeling of exhilaration as the spear flies through the air, the satisfaction as it hits the target. I can't wait to be able to do it to real people.

After a while, the head trainer announces that training is finished for the day, and we should all get ready for the reaping. I would have liked to spend some time knife-throwing, but there'll be plenty of time for that when I get to the Capitol.

I stop my training gear in my locker and retrieve my dress, a skimpy silk thing that doesn't leave much to the imagination. I'm only wearing it because it'll help intimidate other potential volunteers. Although not as useful as a spear or sword, looks can be a valuable weapon. A weapon that I wield with efficiency.

I join the rest of the trainees on the walk to the justice building. A few of them try to start up conversations with me, but I ignore them. I have no reason to talk to people; they have nothing to offer me.

All I can think about is getting to the games and making my first kill. What weapon will I use? I hope they put a spear in the cornucopia. I want to give the audience a good show.

I walk to the town square in a daze, not registering the people around me. I push my way through the crowd of parents and gamblers who are assembled to watch the spectacle.

"Hey look, it's the crazy killer girl!" The mocking voice of Paris Colmstock greets me when I arrive at my section.

Anger instantly boils up within me, threatening to explode. How dare she? That stupid bitch can't even lift a dagger! She has no right to even talk to me, let alone insult me. God, I could so easily kill her. If only she could come to the games with me.

"Do you want to see an example of killing, Paris?" I say, spitting at her feet. "Let me show you!" I smash into her, causing her to fall onto the hard concrete ground. It takes all my willpower not to get down strangle her with her own 'perfect' blond braids.

"Sorry, sorry."

She gets up and hides behind her friends, who back away from me in fear. Paris is a dirty coward. Like most of the people here, she's all talk and no fight.

Thankfully, no one important saw our little scuffle. I'm still furious, but I calm myself down by imagining the best ways to kill Paris. I think beheading would suit her well.

After a long and boring speech by the mayor, our district escort, stumpy woman with a ridiculous lime-green wig, scampers onto the stage.

"Welcome, citizens of District 2. Happy Hunger Games! Shall we see who our lucky participants are?" She reaches into the bowl of names. I don't know why they even bother choosing us randomly, this isn't a weak District, there are always volunteers.

"Petunia Montrose!" The escort shrills.

Who the hell is that? I wonder. It doesn't matter. She won't be going to the games this year.

"Now, have we any volunteer-" The escort doesn't even get to finish.

"I volunteer!" I shout, shoving people aside and rushing up to the stage.

"My my, aren't you enthusiastic! What's your name dear?" The escort asks in a patronising tone.

"Eveline Lepou." I reply. "Your next victor!" I address the crowd raise my fist in the air.

The arena can't come soon enough. I can already taste the blood.

**Aleron Carter-District 1 **

I go up too late to train this morning, which means when I come down for breakfast I have to face a tirade of criticisms and insults from my sister.

"Al, if you won't win if you don't train. How hard is it to get your skinny arse out of bed for an hour of training?" Says my Bryony, looking at me like I've just killed her favourite puppy.

I look the floor and remain silent. She really knows how to make me feel guilty.

She's desperate for me to continue the family tradition of volunteering for the games at the age of seventeen. Every one of my siblings has done it, and every one, except her, has died in the attempt. Which is precisely the reason I'm not so keen to volunteer.

She knows full well that I don't want to fight, but she still forces me to go to training, and has taken it upon herself to be my personal tutor. I've tried dropping out but she is always able to guilt me into carrying on.

"I'm sorry. I really am." I tell her, still looking at the floor. "I just didn't want to have to train on reaping day. It's horrible enough as it is."

"You know what's more horrible than training? Watching your brother die on television. That's what's going to happen if you don't just suck it up learn how to fight." She says with veiled rage.

"I'll see you at the reaping. You know what you have to do." She storms out, leaving me alone.

I don't bother getting any food, I've lost my appetite, so I sit at the table with my head in my hands. Bryony constantly pressures me to be brave and strong, but I'm terrified. The reaping, the games, it's all too much. I know if I go there I'll either die horribly or come back so screwed up that I might as well have died. No one in my family seems to realise that though.

My mother and father both take her side in every argument, telling me that if I don't volunteer then I'll bring shame to the family. It's not like I have much choice. Volunteer and die, or stay here and be bullied and insulted for the rest of my life.

I sit at the table for a while ruminating on how unfair my situation. I'm not concentrating, so I don't notice my father enter the room. To greet me he slaps me hard on the back of the head.

"Why aren't you at the reaping?" He says sternly.

"It doesn't start for another 20 minutes." I rub the back of my head, which stings horribly. He can really hit hard.

"I don't care. You need to get yourself there. Now. If you're seen getting there early, you'll look like you're actually keen, which will help get you sponsors." He speaks slowly, like he's trying to explain a very simple concept to a drooling imbecile.

He's obviously already made up his mind about me volunteering then. I stay silent, because I know whatever I say will only antagonise him.

"Well? Go on then!" He shouts, pulling me up from my chair and shoving me out of the kitchen and into the hall. "I'll see you there. If you're not on that stage then don't bother coming back here."

I just have time to pull on my shoes and scramble outside before he slams the door. Damn it, today couldn't be going any worse.

I take one last look at our house, a large brick building that is identical to the rest of the houses in victor's village. No one in my family cares about the house, which is obvious, its paint is peeling already, and one of the windows has been replaced by wooden boards. The place looks more uninviting than empty houses that surround us.

One way or another I know I don't think I'll be seeing my home again.

I take the long way to the Reaping so I have more time to think. I still can't decide whether or not I should volunteer. It's not that I don't think I stand a chance, I'm a good fighter, but I guess I just don't know if I have the stomach to kill anyone.

At the reaping, I make an effort to avoid catching Bryony's eye. She's sitting on the stage with a sneer on her face, evidently she doesn't think much of this year's crop of kids.

Thankfully I manage to get to my section without attracting her attention. I try to look inconspicuous but fail, because when I look up at her she narrows her eyes and runs her finger across her throat. It's obvious what she means: "volunteer, or I'll kill you myself."

I listen intently to the mayor's speech; not because I find it interesting, but because it gives me something to focuses on other than the fear that is coursing through me.

When the escort arrives to read the names I look down at the floor again, but I can feel Bryony's eyes boring into me.

The girl that was reaped doesn't even have time to register what has happened before a monstrous blonde girl practically runs up to the stage.

"Oh no, not her." I think.

I remember her from training, she's unstoppable, and bloodthirsty. Exactly the kind of person I don't want to be in the arena with.

"Okay, we've got our girl, now let's move on to the boys!" She pulls out a name.

"Regulus Bardas." The crowd behind me shuffles and a weedy boy who looks no younger than 13 walks sheepishly up to the stage.

"Now, have we any volunteers." The escort asks, giving the little boy a pat on the shoulder.

I have to decide now, volunteer, save the little boy and earn the respect of my family, or be disowned and sent to the community home. I glance at Bryony and she nods her head. Well then, I guess my minds been made up.

"I volunteer!" I shout.

The boy looks relived and scampers away.

"Oh goody, two volunteers, isn't this wonderful." The escort chirps.

Well, she's finally done it. Bryony won, I'm going to the arena, just like she always said I would be. I just hope her training pays off.


	9. District 3 Reapings

**A/N: I am really sorry for the delay, due to unforeseen circumstances I wasn't able to write for a while, but things (hopefully) are back on track now. I've tried a different approach to the reaping, and I think I'll do the rest of them like this. The reserved status on the District 4 Tributes may be cancelled if they are not submitted within three days, sorry for being harsh, but I want to keep going with this story. As usual, reviews are appreciated.**

**Persephone Blackwood-District 3**

_The tunnel seems to go on for miles, stretching away into impenetrable blackness with no end in sight. The only sound is the faint drip of water from the ceiling. I have no light so I feel my way blindly, hands outstretched. I can barely see three feet in front of me. The tunnel slopes down steadily, leading me further into the depths of the earth. I'm beginning to feel uneasy now, because over the sound of the falling water I can hear a faint whispering, which gets louder and louder the further down I go. It seems to be coming from in front of me, rising up towards me and filling my head. Deeper and deeper I go, and the whispering gets so loud that I can finally understand what is being said._

"_getoutgetoutgetoutgetout."_

_I immediately turn tail and run up the slope, but I can feel something behind me, getting closer and closer. But I can't run fast enough._

I awake with a start the dark and the cold of my tiny bedroom, drenched in sweat. My blankets are strewn on the floor, and I'm shivering. It's so cold my breath comes out in small clouds that rise up and dissipate when they hit the ceiling.

Every night before reaping day I'm plagued by nightmares, but this one was especially vivid. I take a few deep breaths and calm myself. I tell myself that is was just a dream, and that I'm safe.

Except I'm not really safe. Not today. No one is safe on reaping day.

The faint light coming in through the small window to the right of my bed tells me that it's early morning. There's no way I'm getting back to sleep, so I dress in my reaping clothes, a grey skirt and matching blouse. It's not exactly royal finery, but it's all I can afford.

I creep through the house, taking extra care not to make a sound as I pass my mother's room. Her illness has gotten worse recently, so she needs to rest. I'm hoping that she'll just sleep through the reaping, I don't want her sitting here worrying about whether I'll come home or not.

I stop at the kitchen, and search the cupboards in the hope that I'll find something to eat, but there's nothing but half a loaf of stale bread. I leave it for my Mother, she needs to eat to keep her strength up and being hungry doesn't really bother me; I'm used to it now.

Before I leave write a quick note for my mother and leave it on the table.

_Gone to reaping_. _I'll bring back food._

Outside, the sky is grey and overcast to match my mood. It's impossible not to worry about the reaping. The odds certainly aren't in my favour, I've taken tesserae every year since I was eligible for the games, my name will in the bowl over 30 times.

What I'm most concerned about is what will happen to my mother if I'm sent to the games. My father's salary just isn't enough, and without me there would be no one valuable to look after her.

I know my sister Athene has money, but she refuses to have anything to do with us. So basically without me, the family is screwed.

My boyfriend Tobias lives in the same part of the District as me. A poor, run-down area full of ugly stone cottages with cracked roofs and doors that hang of their hinges. To make matters worse, the neighbourhood is very exposed, with nothing to protect us from the icy winds which seem to blow continually.

I decide not to knock on Tobias' door, because there is a chance his father will answer, and I'd rather not have to talk to him. Instead, I bash on his bedroom window, but there is no response. I keep bashing until finally the curtains are drawn back and Tobias appears at the window, his dark hair ruffled and his blue-grey eyes heavy with sleep.

I smile at him and mime opening a door. He rolls his eyes and disappears from the window. A few seconds later his front door is open and he's standing there, blinking in the morning light.

"You can just walk in you know." He says.

"No, it's much more fun waking you up." I run over and give him a hug.

"Are you hungry?" he asks.

He's always trying to get me to eat more, even if it means going without food himself.

"I'm fine. I ate before I came out." I don't want him taking food away from his family to feed me.

We've got a couple hours until the reaping, so we go into his house and he lights a fire and we sit back to back, leaning up against one another.

I've been with Tobias for five years now. We met at the reaping; his sister had be called and we both had gone to say goodbye to her. After that, we just started helping each other out, and we became a couple soon after.

He's perfect for me really. Without him I don't know how I'd have the strength to carry on caring for my mother and little brother.

There's not really much to do but sit and talk. He lights a fire and we sit together, talking about our plans for when I'm finally old enough to be free of the reaping.

"Do you think we could have kids?" He asks.

This surprises me, as he's never talked about this before. It also makes me sad, because I didn't want any child to have to suffer like we do and I don't know if I could cope looking after someone else.

"We couldn't give a kid a good life. We can barely afford to stay alive ourselves, we can't feed anyone else." I say.

"I know." He says, looking at the floor. "I just want there to be something to look forward to, something in the future that isn't just working in a shitty factory until we die."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. I've only got two more years, then no more reaping. I'll be able to get a job and keep my family alive. It'll be different. Better."

He smiles. "Yeah. I suppose so. Just two more years. You can do that. You haven't been chosen yet. The odds are in your favour, aren't they?"

I hope so. For my mother's sake, I hope so.

**Aven Runestone-District 3**

"You want to know how many times my names in the reaping bowl?" asks my friend Bolt. "Forty. Beat that if you can." He sounds almost proud.

"Yeah, If only I was as lucky as you." I reply.

He laughs. "Well, you can be if you move out of your nice house, give away all your money and try to feed a family of five. It worked for me."

I feel sorry for Bolt, he has so many siblings to feed and no money to buy food. I've been helping him as much as I can. Every year I take out two tesserae and give the grain to him. It's not much, but it's helped him through a few tough years.

I've offered him money on countless occasions, but he nearly always rejects my offers, because he doesn't want to owe me a debt he can't repay. I wish there was more I could do for him, he's been a loyal friend, he was one of the few people to stick with me when I came out.

"Shit, it's about time to get to the reaping. Wouldn't want to miss it would we?" Bolt says with a sigh

"Woo. Come on then. We'll collect Lanni on the way. Why is it that whenever I go the reaping I feel like I'm heading to my execution?" I say bitterly.

Before we leave my house I give my glasses a clean (my mother always stresses the importance of having clean glasses) and attempt and comb my dark, wavy hair so it looks presentable.

I shout goodbye to my mom, and sister. They always go to the reaping together, my sister has a lot of friends she could go with, but she wants to support our mom.

Lanni is waiting for us by the large bronze statue of the president that stands at the entrance to my neighbourhood.

She looks unhappy, but smiles slightly when she sees us.

"Morning." She says, in a voice that makes it obvious she'd rather not be here.

"You're looking positively peachy this morning." Bolt says sarcastically.

"Oh shut, up, let's just go and get this over with." Lanni says. She always hates the reaping, and with good reason. She's seen a lot of her school friends die in the games.

"You won't be chosen, really, don't worry. The odds are in your favour on this one." I say, hoping it alleviates some of her worries.

"I certainly hope so." She says.

The atmosphere in the town square is, as usual, muted. It's like a dark cloud in hanging over the crowd. Everyone is afraid.

We say goodbye to Lanni, who says: "See you on the other side." And go to our section. It's full of people from my school; people I don't get on with very well. Apart from my Bolt and Lanni I don't really have other friends.

It's awkward standing with so many people who hate me, so I'm thankful when the reaping finally begins.

We've had the same escort for eleven years, an abnormally tall woman with skin that is dyed a deep shade of purple. She speaks in the ridiculous accent of the Capitol, which normally I would laugh at, but given the fact she's reading out who will be sent to their deaths, there's nothing funny about it.

"Welcome, welcome, citizens of District 3! You all looking lovely this morning. It's good to see such a big turnout despite the horrible weather! Shall we see who's going to the games this year?"

She scrabbles around in the bowl and pulls out a name. I cross my fingers and silently pray that it's not Lanni.

"Persephone Blackwood."

A blonde girl steps out of the crowd and walks to the stage without saying a word. She looks over the crowd, makes eye contact with someone further back, and then looks at the ground and closes her eyes. It looks like she's trying hard not to cry.

There are no volunteers.

"Now, let's see who will join lovely Persephone."

The escort pulls out another name.

"Bolt Hadley."

In an instant, it's like all the air is knocked out of me. She must have read it wrong! Not Bolt! He can't go to the games, he just can't. I'm not going to let him die. Not after all he's done for me.

"I-I volunteer as tribute!" I stammer. Bolt looks at me incredulously. I give him a reassuring smile.

The people around me are muttering, pointing. Some are even laughing, but I ignore them. I focus all my attention on getting to the stage. I can't show any emotion.

"Hello dear! And what's your name?" She says through a big grin.

"Aven. Aven Runestone." I mutter.

"Well aren't you brave! Ladies and gentlemen I give you your tributes, Persephone Blackwood and Aven Runestone!"

What I've done today has sealed my fate; I'm going to die in the games, I know it. But at least Bolt and his family will be safe. I just hope he doesn't have to watch me die.


End file.
